


What Happens in Udon

by deathlikesdeep_dish



Category: One Piece
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Handcuffed Together, Nipple Play, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Teasing, Use me, Wano Arc (One Piece), Wano Country (One Piece), good girl, little slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 13:40:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathlikesdeep_dish/pseuds/deathlikesdeep_dish
Summary: Fucking hell, you did not sign up for this. You were paid specifically to infiltrate Udon and rescue the target. But thanks to that very target, Eustass "Captain" Kid, you find yourself handcuffed. Together. In a prison cell. Ugh, you did not sign up for this.Another request from Tumblr with the prompt "God, I love that look."
Relationships: Eustass Kid/Reader
Kudos: 23





	What Happens in Udon

_Goddamn it’s hot._

The sun is high and boiling above you, roasting the ground beneath to a scalding degree. You could normally stand the heat out at sea. At least, there’d be a breeze every once in a while. But in Udon? There’s never any reprieve.

You wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand, wishing that you could remove your shirt to just wear the bandages wrapping around your chest. But the prisoners here would often leer at you, one of the only females in this entire labor camp, and you didn’t particularly want to get put in solitary confinement today for beating one of the prisoners to a pulp. You’d paused a beat too long in your work.

“Hey! Get back to work, you filthy bitch!” The overseer yelled at you. Your mouth tightened into a harsh line, resisting the temptation to yell back. You had never taken kindly to being insulted, especially by the cretin here. You mutter to yourself, flicking him off when he’d turned his back.

You hear a snicker to your right, and you whip your head to see where it had come from.

Eustass “Captain” Kid. _What a tool._ You roll your eyes.

“What the hell are you laughing at, Kid?” You say, with a swing of your pickaxe. 

He grins, loving to get a rise out of you, and laughs again but does not reply.

You scowl to yourself. _You just gotta mind your own fucking business, y/n._

Udon was not the first prison you’d called your humble abode, but it was, by far, the most brutal. You were one of the Grand Line’s most infamous assassins, and for good reason. Quick, silent, and deadly, you’d taken out nearly 30 targets, all of which were higher ups with close ties to the Imperial Dragons at Mariejois. You’d been caught probably about six times at this point, and each time, the prisoners would jeer as you entered. After all, they’d say, what kind of assassin gets caught six times? 

What they didn’t know, is that each time you’d been caught had been on purpose. For reconnaissance, or because you’d been paid to get information from a particular prisoner or warden. You’d been caught six times, and escaped five--six here in a few days. You’d already been scoping out the lay of the prison, and had probably three different options of routes to get out. The guards knew you were dangerous, because they restrained you as harshly as they did Devil Fruit users, though you weren’t one. 

This time, you’d been instructed to free Captain Kid. You didn’t know your employer, only your objective. You had not met Captain Kid up until entering Udon, though his arrogance and garishness were well known along the Grand Line. One of the “Worst Generation,” as they called it. You didn't even try to bite back the scoff when you'd heard the title the first time.

It had been two weeks since you’d been thrown in here, and you had two days left to get the two of you the hell out. Kid didn’t know your plans, but it was your intention to tell him tonight after the camp was shut down and the guards were scarce. 

You glanced over to where Kid was working. He’d taken his attention off of you now, and returned to his work. You were prepared for his arrogance, though it still grated on you. However, you were not prepared for his towering physique. It would be very difficult to get that beast of a man out through any of the routes you identified. 

He’d shed his ridiculous red fur (it was blistering outside, after all), leaving him in his tight, open-front vest, and patterned cargo pants. His metal arm was left to almost a normal size given that he was wearing the sea prism stone shackles. What would have been an easy task for him in any normal circumstance was made harder 100 fold by the shackles, and he was still doing more work than most any of the other prisoners. You seemed to regard each other with some respect, though he was definitely a bastard who you did not care for. But you left each other alone, for the most part, and on rare occasions, he’d snag an extra ration of bread for you at dinnertime. 

He turns, his back now facing you, and you can trace the lines of scars peeking out from under his vest. The garment is tight, that you can trace the line of one long, thick, jagged scar starting at his left shoulder and following all the way to his right hip. It is similar to the scar across his chest and eye as well, and you wonder what story that these scars told. 

“Hey!” The overseer yells again, this time approaching you with his heavy club. “Didn’t I tell you to get to work, bitch?” You turn to him, your skin flushed with exertion and rage. 

You notice many of the other prisoners slowing their own work, intrigued by the display. _Fucking vultures._ It’s free entertainment for them.

The pickaxe falls from your hand silently, and you raise a brow at him with a smirk, challenging the overseer. You see a furious disbelief flash over the man’s features. You’re prepared for whatever punishment he’s going to dole out. Your pride would not allow you to back down from anyone. 

“Why you little fucking slut…” He raises the club, grunting and prepares to swing it down on you with full force. But the club stops short of your body, and you look up to see Kid’s metal arm holding the club back. 

“Say that again.” His voice is low and threatening. Visible terror crosses over the man’s feature, not expecting a man in sea prism stone handcuffs to be able to stop a blow like that so easily. The club thuds onto the hard ground. 

Kid’s grip tightens on the overseer’s wrist, and you can hear the quiet crunch of bones under the skin. The overseer cries out in pain, but Kid shows no mercy. He snaps the overseer’s wrist, breaking each bone and leaving his hand a swollen, purple mess. The man drops to the ground as limply as his club had. He curls up and grips his wrist against his chest in pain. 

The adrenaline is pumping wildly through your body, and you take the opportunity to land a swift kick to the overseer’s groin. And you kick hard. He cries out again, not sure which part of his body to tend to. You look up at Kid (and you do have to look up), and meet his unfettered gaze with your own. A split second passes and a mad grin spreads across both of your faces as if to say to each other, _let’s fuck some shit up._

You hadn’t seen another person echo that sentiment as closely as Kid had in this moment. _Maybe this bastard is as batshit as I am._

It was only a few seconds before more guards arrived, and it took every single one of them, plus the warden to subdue the two of you enough to throw you both in solitary. You allowed it to happen, and you knew Kid could have killed all of them if he’d chosen to. He’d held back. It was a game to him. A game to you both. 

An extra set of sea prism stone handcuffs were clapped around your wrists, one on your left wrist and one on his right. They thought that handcuffing you together would prevent excess movement or plotting, which was stupid, but you and Kid let them think it was a solid plan, even struggling a little bit against them for the warden’s sake.

“You bastard,” Kid says dramatically. “I swear when I get out of here…” 

“Shut your pirate mouth, Kid. You’re done,” The warden replies before turning to you. “You too, assassin. You’ll never see the light of day again.” 

You do your best to suppress your laughter and keep a straight face as the warden and other guards left the room, but as soon as the lock clicked shut, both you and Kid burst into cackling laughter. You laugh so hard that tears came down your face, and you could not remember the last time you’d laughed like that. Kid, too. He had no idea how long it’d been since he’d even genuinely smiled, much less laughed. 

The laughter died down after a few moments and you collapse against the cold stone wall with a concluding sigh. “Wow, they are actual morons.” You say, grinning up at Kid again.

Kid had been on his knees during his dramatic display, so he sunk down to sit the same as you. His back was against the wall, and his long legs were bent so he could rest his hands on his knees. 

Kid nods his head in agreement and smirks. “I cannot believe that they thought it would be a good idea to handcuff us together. They’d have been better off just putting us in separate cells.” 

You laugh again. “You’re not as much of a prick as I thought you were, Kid.”

He raises an eyebrow and looks down at you, his metal hand comes to his bare chest over his heart. “You thought I was a prick? I’m deeply offended.” 

_This guy._

_Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to save him._ “Yeah, yeah,” you wave your hand dismissively. 

The energy in the room has calmed somewhat, and you then become acutely aware of how close the two of you are in this cell. So close that you can feel the heat from his muscled thigh radiating into the side of your own. You can see how his chest moves when he breathes, that rough scar expanding and contracting along with the skin. You blush a little when you notice that your eyes are drifting down to his abdomen, which is just as muscled and hard as the rest of him. A droplet of sweat, trickles down and you follow its movements until it disappears into the waistband of his pants. You notice wisps of red hair that trail down from beneath his naval, and the very top of the v shape that you know would accentuate his…

“What the hell are you staring at, y/n?” Kid interrupts and you quickly avert your gaze in embarrassment, choosing instead to look at his face to reply. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you were uncomfortable. But your breath hitches ever-so-slightly when you see just how close his face is to yours. Without realizing, he has slumped down a bit so you are closer to the same height. He wants to see your face too. 

His mop of red hair is drenched with sweat, making it stick to his forehead. Normally, his trademark goggles would keep it up for him, but they’d been stripped off in the tussle with the guards. He has very distinct features--pale skin, especially for a pirate, high cheekbones and dark pink, almost red, lips. And his eyes.

They are so light a brown that they are almost gold, shining even in the dim light of the cell. They are like tiger’s eye in so many ways, multi-dimensional, shifting and brilliant. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you feel yourself trembling a little. You are chained to him, and he to you, in more ways than one. Kid feels the hum too, a new kind of magnetism that he is experiencing. 

“Nothing…” You finally say, breathier than intended. You lean away, conscious of your proximity and knowing just how dangerous it would be to let yourself get carried away with whatever it is that was happening between you. 

He says nothing, just leans against the wall, and tips his head back, closing his eyes. Now, your eyes are following his sharp jawline as it connects to the column of his throat. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and takes a deep breath in.

“Why did you do that out there?” You blurt. 

He opens his eyes and turns his head against the wall. “Do what?” He asks.

“Stop the overseer,” You reply. 

His mouth tightened. “Because every one of them is a shit that deserves whatever it is that is coming to them. I just saw an open opportunity to shut one down.” 

You nod, hating yourself for feeling almost disappointed that his reasoning had nothing to do with you. You don’t say anything else for a long few moments.

You lower your voice to a murmur that you know that only he can hear. The guard’s voices are echoing quietly as they pace the prison corridor. “I was hired to break you out of here.” 

His eyes widen. “What the fuck? Are you serious?” His voice is louder than it needs to be. You gesture him to quiet down. 

“Yes, I’m serious,” You reply. “I had a few more days to figure it out, but this is too good an opportunity. We’re getting out tonight.”

You can tell that his mind is racing, those golden eyes now alight with fire and anticipation. He wants to ask questions. You hold up a hand. “I’ll answer any questions you have after we get the hell out. Deal?” You cock an eyebrow up.

“Why should I believe you?” Kid asks suspiciously. 

You roll your eyes. “Because I’m a highly trained assassin that has broken out of five of the most well-guarded prisons on the Grand Line. If I was hired to kill you, I would have already.”

The gears are turning in Kid’s mind as he deliberates. Another moment passes before he says, “Alright, I’m in. What’s the plan?”

You spend the next few minutes describing all of the exit routes that you’d observed, and Kid gives feedback on which would be the easiest for a person of his stature to navigate. You are somewhat surprised by his analytical mind, his attention to detail. He’s absorbing every word you say, and never tries to supersede your plans with his own. 

“We make a move about an hour before dawn. There’s a shift change around 5:00 AM, so there will be less guards. And the ones leaving will be tired after the end of their shift and the ones coming in will be groggy from just waking up.” 

He grins. “I’m impressed, y/n. You really thought of everything.”

You shrug and smirk. “I’m a professional for a reason.”

He chuckles and relaxes back against the wall. “Well, we’ve got a few hours. What should we do with the time? Given the way you were looking at me earlier, I’d say you probably want to spend a couple hours fucking.” He laughs again, clearly joking, but your face morphs into a horrified expression, your skin turning bright red, and your lips gaping open.

When you don’t reply, he turns his head to you and takes in your facial expression. The smile drops from his face and you could have sworn you could see his own face flushing as well. “Wait, that’s not what you want...is it?” He asks, his voice now a little rough, like the air is caught in his throat. 

The heat in your face spreads all over your body, and you shift uncomfortably. Try as you might, the image of Kid, hovering over you, a feral expression of desire on his face, fucking you senseless in this cell, would not leave your mind. You press your thighs together and you avert your gaze again. 

His large hand grabs your jaw firmly and he forces your face to him. “Look at me.” He says, and when you meet his eyes, you see that they are filled with the same carnal desire that he must have seen in your own. 

You can’t help it. 

You whimper. 

Just a quiet noise. So quiet that had his hand not been grazing your throat he may not have known it happened. 

But he did know. 

“Fuck it,” He says with abandon, pulling your face up to his as he kisses you. You collapse into him, ceding the control to which so desperately cling. His lips are insistent against your own, his hand moving to grip your throat. It should have scared you. You saw what that grip could do earlier, and yet you moan into his mouth at the feeling. 

“Goddamn,” He rips his mouth away from yours to catch his breath and releases his grip on your throat in lieu of a position on your waist. His metal arm grips the other side of your waist and you gasp from the contact of the cold metal against your hot skin. 

“Come here,” He says, and he lifts you into his lap, indicating that you should straddle him as he sits against the wall. As you settle onto his lap, you immediately feel his hard length through his pants, pressing up against you. He groans at the contact, and his lips go to your neck, biting and sucking the skin there. You writhe on top of him, confined within the limits that he has given you with his strong arms. He wants you to stay there, and so you will stay. You want more, so you grind down against him and he laughs a little, low and quiet. “You’re needy, aren’t you?” You both hate and love that you’ve been reduced to this. All of your adult life you’d been in control. To give it up now was ecstasy. 

One hand runs underneath your loose shirt, finding the bandages that are cinching your breasts. “These need to go.” He kisses down your jaw and swiftly rips the bandages. They fall from your chest and onto your lap and your nipples harden against the cool of the room. The sea prism stone handcuffs are becoming a nuisance. 

Just as he is about to lift your shirt, you say, “Wait…” You are panting heavy and he pauses.

You jangle the cuffs. “I want these gone.” 

He chuckles. “Yeah, so do I,” he murmurs against your skin. “But I don’t know what you plan to do about that.” 

“If you would stop distracting me,” You push away. “I could tell you that I stole a key from a guard in the fight.” 

This time, he really does lean back with a mischievous grin. “Wow,” He replies. “Where did you manage to hide it?” 

You blush again. “Uh, well,” He begins to run his hands all over your body.

“Where did y/n hide that little key?” He teases. He runs his hands down the side of your body and pauses as he comes in contact with something metal. “What’s this?” His fingers dip under the waistband of your work pants, to find that you’d hidden the key just beneath the fabric of your undergarment at the highest point of your hip where it wouldn’t drop.

“Very clever,” He whispers, removing the key, but not without brushing the front of your panties with his fingertips. 

You shiver at the contact. “Yeah, yeah,” You try your best to sound nonchalant. “Just get us out of these already.” 

He unlocks the handcuffs, one which attached your hands together and one which attached you to him. His fingers are gentle, caressing your forearms and wrists as he does. You remind yourself to breathe. Another moment passes and your arms are free. You do the same with his cuffs, feeling how hot his skin is under your fingertips. The last cuff falls to the ground and you are both unfettered. You remain on his lap. 

His eyes meet yours questioningly and you nod, whimpering again. His hands waste no more time. They dive beneath your shirt and cup your breasts with a firm gentleness that you hadn’t expected from Eustass Kid. He was in charge, no doubt, but never selfishly wanton. His lips meet yours again and you open your mouths to each other. Your teeth clash against his brazenly, and you bite his bottom lip. He groans and moves one hand up the back of your shirt to the nape of your neck, anchoring you to him as he ravages you with his mouth. His lips are soft, his tongue firm. You want more of him. 

Your hand comes to the back of his head and pushes down lightly, indicating that you want his mouth on your breast. He resists, not wanting to give you what you want so easily. 

“There’s that needy side again,” He pulls back and whispers. 

You try again, more desperate. He smirks again and complies, but only very slowly. He teases you with every inch that he moves. “I’ll give you what you want,” He says, lifting your shirt over your head. You shiver in the damp of the cell, your entire torso now exposed. “But only because you were such a good girl getting that key.” 

The independent side of you grimaces at the praise, your intellectual mind insisting that you didn’t need his approval or anyone else’s for that matter. But the wetness that floods your panties indicated that you very much desire the praise nonetheless. 

His lips close around your nipple, and you moan quietly. He alternates between sucking, licking and biting, the other hand working your other nipple in tandem. You can’t help it. You grind down on his cock. He growls, pulling away from you.

“Maybe you’re not a good girl,” He grits out, biting your shoulder. Your hands go to the waistband of his pants and you tug, unbuttoning them deftly. 

“No, not a good girl,” He says in confirmation, allowing you to pull his thick cock out from his pants. He grunts, letting out a shivering breath. 

His cock is proportionate to his frame, and you wonder with a watering mouth how it’s going to fit inside of you. He grips it in his right hand, pumping a few times and brushing his thumb over the tip. He then takes his thumb, and rests it on your bottom lip. Your tongue swirls around it, tasting the salty musk and you pull its entirety into your mouth and suck, your eyes not leaving his as you did. 

A wild look comes into his eyes, reminiscent of the look he had just before fighting the guards together earlier. It was unhinged, unabashed, and untamed. 

_God, I love that look._

You whimper and he can’t wait any longer. He lifts you up easily, positioning you over his cock. You grip his bare shoulders with your hands, and you slowly sink onto him. 

“Holy hell…” He grounds out.

Your pussy is so wet that it takes him easily, stretching and allowing him to fill you up. When you, at last, take in every inch of him, you are nearly blind with the pleasure. Sex had never felt like this before. The cool metal of his left arm was slick with your sweat, but still able to hold you firmly in place. You want to move, but he does not let you.

“Maybe the guards were right,” He says lowly. “You are a little slut.” 

He bucks his hips upward, keeping you firmly rooted in place. He has made it clear that he will be calling the shots. You moan, and you don’t notice that your volume has been slowly increasing in the small cell. His hands move to your ass, smacking it playfully before moving beneath. He lifts you, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of you, before slamming you back down without warning. 

“You’re so deep…” You say with ragged breath. 

He does not reply, focused on building your pleasure, along with his own. He alternates between lifting you and rocking you back and forth with his length fully inside of you. You like this position, as you can grind your clit against his pubic bone while feeling his cock fill you all the way up. 

Your breaths and moans are getting louder with each moment, but neither of you give one shit about who hears you. 

“Your pussy is so good, baby…” He groans. “So wet, so tight.”

His words and his lips and his body are hypnotizing you, moving you closer and closer to oblivion. “Be a good girl,” He says. “And come for me.”

The knot in your core tightens with the words and you whimper. He releases his grip on you, allowing you freedom for the first time since this escapade began. 

“C’mon, y/n,” His eyes are dark. “You know what to do. What you need.”

His lips kiss just beneath your jaw. “So take what you need. Use me.” 

You need no further encouragement. You take what you need. You use him. 

Your pleasure has been building to a precipice that you are dangerously hovering over. From the look on his face and how rigid his length is, you gather that he has been climbing with you. You move faster, focusing only on your own pleasure, as he instructed. 

You’re close. So close. “Yes,” He knows this. “You’re such a good girl...such a good girl…”   
That is all it takes. You fall. And you fall and you fall and you fall and he falls and he falls and he falls with you. Your body writhes against his and he holds you steady, his own release wracking through his body. You’d never felt such ecstasy. You reach the valley of your climax, heart racing and breath panting as you both come down. 

You say nothing to each other for a long few moments as you lift yourself off of him, the sound of your ragged breathing the only sounds in the room. 

You slump on his lap, reaching for your discarded shirt to place over your body.

“Shit,” He finally says with a heavy sigh, buttoning his own pants and running a hand through his hair. 

You laugh and open your mouth to speak when--

“What the hell are you two doing in there??” The loud voice of a guard yells through the door. He fumbles with the keys. You and Kid exchange a manic grin and nod.

“Guess we’ll be making our exit sooner than expected,” You say, jumping to your feet. The door swings open and the guards’ eyes immediately land on the open sea prism cuffs on the cell floor. He is frozen with panic.

And as you prepare to run with Kid, you sneak one last glance up at him, hoping to see that look again. The one that was feral, the one that was determined and unyielding. The one that was just a little bit crazy. 

You see it there, plastered on his face as he nods down at you.

_God, I love that look._


End file.
